The Vicious Beauty Faked His Death Three Times [Transmigration] - Chapter 37.2

Chapter 37.2

At this point, Shen Miaomiao’s eyes darted around: “Speaking of which, A-Han truly has a sincere heart for Young Master Ling. First, he risked his life for him, and now he’s gone off alone with a Tribulation stage master just to get medicine. Tsk tsk tsk, A-Yan, I’m telling you, this definitely isn’t a normal master-servant relationship. You think…”

Her voice stopped abruptly. Shen Miaomiao’s eyes widened when she saw Ling Yanhe standing nearby at some unknown point. She turned her head in disbelief to look at Ye Zhaoyan, who hadn’t warned her.

“Ah! A-Yan, you’ve learned bad things from others! I’m never talking to you again!”

With that, Shen Miaomiao almost immediately threw the cattail leaf fan in her hand to the ground and ran away as if fleeing.

Watching her scramble away, Ye Zhaoyan laughed softly and helplessly.

“You let me hear that on purpose?” Ling Yanhe half-squinted at her.

Ye Zhaoyan withdrew her smile and replied naturally: “Seeing is believing, but hearing can be deceptive. Young Master Ling should understand this principle.”

Ling Yanhe looked at her for a moment, then shifted his gaze to the clay pot on the stove.

“Now that there’s no one to watch the fire, I’ll have to ask Young Master Ling for help,” Ye Zhaoyan said, bending over to pick up the fan and handing it over.

Ling Yanhe didn’t take it immediately. He looked down for a moment before accepting it.

Ye Zhaoyan didn’t mind his suspicion. She naturally took some herbs from a prepared packet, used a piece of coarse cloth to lift the lid of the clay pot, and added them in.

Ling Yanhe watched her movements and suddenly asked: “Damaged meridians?”

“Young Master Ling has a keen eye,” Ye Zhaoyan replied, replacing the lid.

“When did it happen?” Ling Yanhe asked with a frown.

“Two days before you woke. At that time, your fever wouldn’t subside, and we lacked an extremely cold herb. Fortunately, he found it in time,” Ye Zhaoyan said calmly.

Ling Yanhe stared gloomily at the flames in the stove. After a moment of silence: “He didn’t tell me.”

Hearing this, Ye Zhaoyan laughed softly: “He indeed doesn’t like to speak of these things.”

“Is he very familiar with you?” Ling Yanhe averted his gaze to look at her, the fan in his hand stopping.

“You don’t need to have such great hostility toward me; he and I are not in that kind of relationship.” Ye Zhaoyan looked at him, her tone flat. “It’s just that his condition was too poor at the time, and I diagnosed him.”

Ling Yanhe’s frown deepened. The image of the man’s overly pale face at night flashed through his mind, and his thin lips pressed into a straight line.

“Where is he?” Ling Yanhe asked.

“He went down the mountain with Sect Leader Wen to buy herbs. There are several in the prescription for you that the Hundred Demons Sect lacks.” With that, Ye Zhaoyan looked at him quietly.

Ling Yanhe’s brow furrowed, a flash of irritability in his eyes.

“Why tell me this?” Ling Yanhe looked up at her, the scrutiny in his eyes completely undisguised.

Ye Zhaoyan met his gaze without flinching. She didn’t answer immediately, but sighed softly after a moment of silence, a trace of exhaustion and helplessness appearing on her face for the first time.

“I don’t know.” Ye Zhaoyan looked down at the fallen leaves. “I just felt you should know this.”

The wind blew, sending fallen leaves swirling through the air.

Ye Zhaoyan looked up at the fan that had been set aside, feeling a bit lost for the first time.

By doing this… was she doing the right thing?

After the onset of winter, it grew dark exceptionally fast.

Ling Yanhe stood at the sect entrance, looking into the distance. A figure could be vaguely seen on the rugged mountain path.

Suddenly, his dark eyes sank.

The only one who returned was Wen Leyou.

On the street, the cold wind made Wen Leyou shiver.

“Where did Big Brother go? Why isn’t he back yet…” Wen Leyou muttered, looking at the vendors packing up. “Could something have happened to him?”

“Pah, pah, pah! What am I thinking!” Wen Leyou said quickly, bending over to spit twice.

“You…”

A soft voice startled Wen Leyou. He straightened up abruptly and looked warily at the woman dressed in misty purple gauze.

“Are you Master Lin’s younger brother?” the woman asked curiously.

“Yes, yes. Where is Big Brother now?” Wen Leyou asked hurriedly upon hearing Lin Qinghan’s name.

The woman smiled at him, saying meaningfully: “Master Lin is at the Suxuan Pavilion accompanying Miss Haitang. He told me to tell you to head back first; he will return later.”

Hearing this, Wen Leyou knit his brows in confusion: “Where is Big Brother? What ‘Suxuan Pavilion’ and ‘Miss Haitang’? Big Brother never mentioned these to me. Are you a swindler?”

Insulted, the woman looked annoyed. She gave him a side-glance, pulled a token from her sleeve, and tossed it at him: “Kid, your brother had me bring this. If you don’t believe it, go ask him yourself.”

Wen Leyou looked at the token and the handwritten note from his brother. He hurriedly grabbed the woman before she could leave: “Did Big Brother really say that to you?”

“Naturally. Why would I lie to you?” The woman didn’t want to waste words, pulled her hand away, and grumbled as she left.

Wen Leyou looked at the items in his hand, feeling a bit lost and confused.

“Why didn’t Big Brother say anything to me…”

“Say what?”

Wen Leyou jumped in fright. He looked up to see Ling Yanhe standing at the sect entrance.

The man stood there in black, a long sword at his waist. At this moment, those dark eyes were fixed on him, his face so gloomy he looked like the Black Guard of the underworld waiting on the road to the afterlife.

Wen Leyou grumbled about him in his head. He was annoyed and had no intention of dealing with the person before him.

Suddenly, a scabbard blocked his way.

“What are you doing?” Wen Leyou asked, raising his voice.

“Where is Lin Qinghan?” Ling Yanhe asked coldly.

“Where Big Brother goes is none of your business!” Wen Leyou replied defiantly.

The scabbard was suddenly retracted. Ling Yanhe swept a glance at him and said contemptuously: “Asking you is a waste of time.”

Provoked so openly, Wen Leyou’s temper flared. He stepped forward to stop the man: “What do you mean asking me is a waste of time? I know Big Brother went to Suxuan Pavilion. Do you know that?!”

“Suxuan Pavilion?”

Wen Leyou went silent. Seeing Ling Yanhe’s face suddenly turn cold, he snapped back to reality.

Before he could figure out if he’d said something he shouldn’t, the person before him turned and headed down the mountain.

“Hey! You… don’t go! Don’t ruin Big Brother’s fun!” Wen Leyou tried to fix it urgently.

At those words, Ling Yanhe actually stopped.

“I naturally will not ruin his ‘fun’.”

Ling Yanhe looked down at the fallen leaves blown by the wind, his eyes as deep as ink. He spoke word by word.

The freezing voice suppressed a churning emotion, blowing through like a cold wind. It made Wen Leyou shiver where he stood.

“Why does he sound so sinister…”

“Sir, it’s cold outside. Come in and rest a while.”

A woman wearing rouge and a purple gauze dress swayed her hips, smiling as she tried to pull the youth at the door inside.

A flash of cold light appeared. A long sword was placed directly before the woman. Terrified, she fell back onto the floor, meeting the youth’s freezing eyes.

“Where is Lin Qinghan?”

The freezing voice made the woman shudder. She caught the information in his words and said tremblingly: “I don’t know any Lin Qinghan…”

Seeing the man’s eyes darken, the woman suppressed the urge to scream and said fearfully: “But I saw a Master Lin. I don’t know if he’s the one you’re looking for.”

“Where is he?”

The woman breathed a sigh of relief and said quickly: “On the second floor, in Miss Haitang’s room. There’s a sign hanging on the door. You’ll know once you go up.”

The youth looked her over, and she hurriedly lowered her head, her back already soaked in cold sweat.

The sword was sheathed.

The woman stayed on the floor for a long time. She stood up shakily, looked at the staring eyes around her, and waved them off fiercely: “Keep looking, and see if that god of death doesn’t come back down and run you through with his sword!”

The onlookers dispersed.

“A bunch of lunatics…” the woman muttered, patting her chest.

Inside the room, the candle flickered. The dim light hit Lin Qinghan’s face, making the flush on his cheeks even more captivating. He leaned halfway against the headboard, his beautiful eyes muddled with wine, curving slightly as if to hook one’s soul away.

His long, fair fingers gripped a wine cup, swirling it gently. the liquid rippled, and suddenly a drop flew out, hitting the floor with a “thud” and splashing into tiny droplets.

Haitang sat beside him. Looking at his idle smile, she had long lost her heart to him.

“Young Master?” Haitang called softly.

“Hm?”

Those soulful eyes looked over, but they weren’t focused, appearing somewhat muddled and vacant.

Haitang’s heart skipped a beat at that look. She moved closer, almost sitting in his lap.

She had spent the whole afternoon with him and finally managed to get him drunk.

“Young Master, don’t drink anymore. Let’s do something else?” Haitang coaxed softly, reaching out to take the cup from his hand.

But the hand suspended in the air suddenly pulled back. Haitang hadn’t expected it and nearly fell into his lap, but she was caught steadily by a hand. She looked up to see Lin Qinghan raising an eyebrow at her.

Haitang felt her face heat up under his gaze, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she looked straight down from his eyes to his slightly curled, thin lips.

“Young Master…” Haitang whispered, leaning in.

“Bang—”

The door was thrown open. A cold wind rushed in, making Haitang shiver. She turned to see who was bothering them, only to meet a pair of eyes that were terrifyingly cold.

“Get out.”

Ling Yanhe’s gaze passed Haitang and landed on the person behind her.

That person was looking up at him, those eyes usually so clear now holding a hazy blur. the corners of his eyes were stained with a decadent, gorgeous red. Under the dim light, he looked like a fox demon luring people to their deaths.

“Who are you?” Haitang suppressed the cowardice in her heart and shouted defiantly.

But the person before her didn’t even look at her. He stepped forward, then quickly drew the long sword at his waist and sliced the table in the room into pieces.

Haitang’s face turned deathly pale. Looking at the sword and feeling the fierce aura around the youth, her body wouldn’t stop shaking.

Suddenly, a warm hand landed on her shoulder and patted it lightly.

“Go on. He and I have things to discuss.”

Haitang looked back to see Lin Qinghan smiling at her.

the warm hand dropped, lightly holding her palm, then flipped to place something in her hand.

It was a bright piece of gold.

“It is my fault for letting you be wronged,” Lin Qinghan said with an apologetic smile.

“Young Master…” Haitang’s nose prickled. Under his gentle gaze, she slowly stood up.

She walked to the door and looked back reluctantly, only to see the youth with the sword turn sharply to glare at her. Terrified, she fled.

The moment the door closed, an overwhelming swarm of fine threads pressed down.

“Tsk.”

Lin Qinghan raised an eyebrow at the threads pressing toward him and lifted his hand slightly. Those aggressive threads were instantly incinerated by fire. But soon, a mystic iron sword was placed across his neck, forcing him to lift his head.

Lin Qinghan looked up into Ling Yanhe’s dark eyes, which were churning with indignation.

“I truly should cut off this hand of yours as well,” Ling Yanhe said through gritted teeth.

Hearing this, Lin Qinghan tilted his head and laughed softly. He looked straight up at him, raising an eyebrow provocatively: “What are you angry about?”

“Heh, why would I be angry because of you?” Ling Yanhe said with narrowed eyes.

Lin Qinghan continued to look at him, casually pressing his finger against the blade: “Not angry? Then why the sword? Want to kill me?”

Ling Yanhe stared at him, his thin lips pressed into a straight line.

Seeing this, Lin Qinghan actually leaned back casually. His disarrayed robes fell open slightly with his movement, revealing his fair neck. He lifted his eyelids to look straight at Ling Yanhe and said idly: “If you want to kill me, wait until I’ve had my fun.”

“Fun?”

“Mm. Otherwise, why would I come to a place like this?” Lin Qinghan sneered, looking for all the world like a profligate son. “If you want to have fun in the same room with me, that works too.”

“Lin Qinghan.” Ling Yanhe looked at him with a somber expression.

Seeing his sharp expression, Lin Qinghan waved his hand with a sudden sense of boredom, as if his mood had been spoiled: “If you’re unwilling, then go wait outside.”

With that, he withdrew his gaze and stopped looking at Ling Yanhe, as if the person before him had ruined his appetite.

Ling Yanhe looked at the person on the bed, his dark eyes terrifyingly deep: “Who do you want to call in?”

Hearing this, Lin Qinghan laughed softly, his voice idle: “Anyone will do.”

Suddenly, the long sword was thrown to the floor with a “clang.”

Before Lin Qinghan could look up, his hands were seized and pinned harshly above his head against the bed. He knit his brows and tried to kick out, but his other hand was caught, and his other leg was pinned down by a knee, leaving him completely unable to move.

Fingers rubbed lightly against his ankle, making Lin Qinghan shrink back. He tried to retract his leg but was pinned down. His gathered spiritual power was shattered by the Gu parasite, and his strength was drained away. In an instant, he was yanked forward harshly.

The wine had muddled Lin Qinghan’s thoughts, and this treatment made it even harder for him to recover. He could only gasp for breath to find his bearings, those clear eyes showing a trace of confusion for the first time.

A low laugh, mixed with a forceful, invasive aura, pressed down.

“Why hide?” Ling Yanhe looked at him, indignation and mockery mixing in his dark eyes. “Didn’t you say you wanted to have some fun?”

“Bastard,” Lin Qinghan cursed under his breath.

Ling Yanhe merely raised an eyebrow, ignoring the resistance. He leaned down, his warm, hurried breath spraying on Lin Qinghan’s face. the youth’s gaze was burning.

Before the thin lips could land, Lin Qinghan suddenly turned his head away, his brow tightly furrowed. the disgust on his face was all too obvious.

Ling Yanhe’s movements stopped. He looked down at the expression on the man’s face, his eyes as dark as ink.

Under the control of the Gu parasite, Lin Qinghan was still unwilling.

The grip on the man’s wrist tightened involuntarily, causing the scabbed wound to tear open once more. Sticky, warm blood seeped out, sticking to the crevices of Ling Yanhe’s fingers. He looked at Lin Qinghan’s tightly pressed, pale lips and leaned down again.

This time, the Black Bone Fan appeared suddenly, its sharp edge pressing against his heart. Ling Yanhe froze, looking at Lin Qinghan, his face darkening completely.

The storm was coming.

Lin Qinghan didn’t even bother with a sneer. He looked at Ling Yanhe coldly. the stinging pain in his heart struck his nerves repeatedly, and a powerful sense of revulsion surged up. He said in a deep voice: “Get out!”

“Anyone will do?” Ling Yanhe’s gaze was grim, the drawn-out tail of his words sounding strange with anger.

Lin Qinghan felt the wine and anger surge up together, making him feel sick. He looked at Ling Yanhe and said coldly: “Anyone but you.”

As the words fell, the room temperature seemed to drop to the freezing point.

A wild wind had risen outside at some unknown point, slamming into the paper windows and making them creak.

The grip on his wrist suddenly tightened. Someone pressed a finger harshly into the wound, rubbing the flesh. The pain made Lin Qinghan bite his lip sharply. the remaining wine in his system was jolted away, leaving his face a shade paler.

“Why?”

A freezing voice fell. Ling Yanhe leaned down slightly. the sharp edge sliced through the fabric of his chest, pressing directly against his heart, but he seemed completely unaware—or perhaps he didn’t care. His dark eyes looked straight at Lin Qinghan, a trace of indignant cold light flashing within them.

He asked again: “Why?”

Lin Qinghan was annoyed by the question. He snapped his eyelids open to look at him, saying word by word: “It’s too disgusting.”

Suddenly, the paper window was blown open by the wind. Cold air rushed into the room. Lin Qinghan was already sensitive to the cold; having removed his outer robes upon entering, he was now only wearing a single inner garment. the cold wind made him shiver.

“Heh.”

A light laugh fell. Ling Yanhe looked down at him from above, his eyes pure black and filled with an overwhelming murderous aura. He stared straight at him like a demon descended upon the world.

“Then be disgusted.”

As the idle voice fell, Lin Qinghan’s eyes widened.

Ling Yanhe leaned down. the Black Bone Fan was pushed upward, suddenly piercing his shoulder. Blood mixed with an invasive aura pressed down together.

The thin, tender skin of his neck was bitten and gnawed. the strange sensation mixed with the sharp pain forced Lin Qinghan to tilt his head back slightly. His intention was to avoid the invasion, but he had personally delivered himself into the other’s mouth.

Hurried breath sprayed on his neck. Lin Qinghan struggled with all his limbs, but between the wine and the Gu parasite’s suppression, he couldn’t break free. Instead, his clothes were rubbed and loosened further. the cold wind blew in, freezing his body stiff.

Lin Qinghan turned his head, his gaze falling on an item in the corner. His fingertips moved slightly, but quickly, the other’s hand pressed down. Before the Immortal Binding Rope could fly out, it was manipulated by the Gu parasite and fell back.

“What are you trying to do?”

The somber voice fell, breath spraying on Lin Qinghan’s face. He snapped his eyes shut, his heart sinking.

“You bastard… if you dare treat me as a furnace today, I will kill you tomorrow…”

Muddled thoughts and wine resulted in a weak murmur. It fell into the room but actually managed to stop the other’s invasive movements.

Ling Yanhe frowned at him, his tone strange: “Furnace?”

In that single moment of hesitation, Lin Qinghan steeled his heart. the Immortal Binding Rope in the corner flew out, quickly binding Ling Yanhe. the Gu parasite went quiet. Lin Qinghan didn’t have time for other thoughts; he gathered his strength and used both his hands and feet to push the man off the bed.

The moment he regained control of his body, Lin Qinghan immediately formed a seal to fix the broken window.

Once the cold air in the room gradually dissipated, Lin Qinghan’s muddled consciousness finally returned. He sat up, gasping for breath. Once he’d recovered a bit, he reached up to touch his neck. the stinging pain made him knit his brows, and he looked irritably at the person below the bed.

Ling Yanhe was kneeling on the floor, his hands tightly restrained by the Immortal Binding Rope. Despite being trapped, that sticky, disgusting gaze remained fixed on him.

Lin Qinghan’s skin crawled at that look. the anger in his heart surged up, and he cursed without filtering: “You lecherous brat!”

This person was exactly like a dog in heat!

He had intended to study the items he got from Perfected Yunyin and then activate the Symbiotic Gu to force the man here, then bind him with the Immortal Binding Rope. Who would have thought the other would burst in like he was catching an adulterer before he could even start, and then pin him to the bed…

Thinking of what the other had done, Lin Qinghan’s face grew even gloomier. His gaze fell upon the other’s lower body, and he half-squinted his eyes. the Black Bone Fan appeared in his palm.

Might as well just castrate him.

“You thought I was treating you as a furnace?” Ling Yanhe suddenly spoke, his tone strange.

Lin Qinghan sneered: “Aren’t you?”

Hearing this, Ling Yanhe knit his brows at him, appearing somewhat angry. His expression was contemptuous: “That is merely a filthy tactic used by aristocratic families to hide the fact that their households are full of trash.”

Hearing the disdain in his tone, Lin Qinghan couldn’t help but roll his eyes in his heart.

This person’s act was so thorough he even insulted himself.

“Liar,” Lin Qinghan couldn’t help but mutter.

Hearing this, Ling Yanhe froze and looked up. Lin Qinghan’s clothes were in disarray, his face was displeased, and the flush at the corners of his eyes hadn’t faded. Those beautiful eyes still held the watery sheen of someone who had just been bullied harshly.

The shimmering light made one’s heart soften.

“I am not lying. I disdain to use those tactics.” Ling Yanhe turned his head away, his tone a bit awkward. “Besides, that lowly status is not worthy of you.”

Lin Qinghan sneered.

Did the man think he could deceive him with such crude flattery? How incredibly arrogant.

“Your tactics aren’t much more sophisticated,” Lin Qinghan countered unceremoniously.

The stinging in his heart still lingered, and with the wine gradually catching up to him, Lin Qinghan had no desire to argue further.

Winning a war of words wouldn’t change anything; it was just adding to his troubles.

His scanning gaze stopped suddenly, and Lin Qinghan’s expression became somewhat unnatural.

How is this guy still so… spirited?

Lin Qinghan looked at Ling Yanhe gloomily. For the first time, he had a deep understanding of what a “Dragon Aotian” protagonist was. A “chosen one” in every sense of the word.

“I’ll find someone to come in for you,” Lin Qinghan suddenly said.

“You dare.”

Ling Yanhe snapped his gaze over, his eyes sharp. Clearly, he was enraged.

Threatened like this, Lin Qinghan’s own anger flared up. He sneered at the man: “Then just stay like that.”

With that, he didn’t look at Ling Yanhe’s reaction. He decisively extinguished the candle, lay down on the bed, and pulled up the blanket, preparing to rest.

Maintaining the barrier outside had already drained enough of his energy, not to mention Ling Yanhe’s tossing. the wine was now hitting him with a delayed effect, making his head throb.

If the other didn’t know what was good for him, why should he care?

Thinking this, Lin Qinghan closed his eyes to rest.

Inside the dim room, the bed curtains hung down. the gauze was as thin as a cicada’s wing, hiding nothing, and outlining the figure on the bed with a trace of blur.

The wind blew in gusts outside, making the window he’d just fixed rattle even louder.

Suddenly, the blanket on the bed was thrown back, and the curtains were pulled aside casually.

Lin Qinghan looked gloomily at the still-spirited Ling Yanhe: “What do you want now?”

This guy wouldn’t sleep himself, and he used the Gu parasite to keep Lin Qinghan from sleeping either. He was a complete madman!

Ling Yanhe didn’t answer him, but Lin Qinghan felt a surge of true qi entering his body. It spread from his heart throughout his whole body, finally gathering at his right wrist.

Lin Qinghan lifted his hand and saw the wound on his wrist gradually healing and scabbing, slowly returning to its original state.

“Why rest while injured?”

When Lin Qinghan looked over, Ling Yanhe spoke softly, appearing very considerate.

“Heh, should I thank you?”

As if this injury wasn’t caused by you, Lin Qinghan glared at him. Then his gaze fell on him, and he said irritably, “I’ll go out and call someone for you.”

Being stared at with such desire, he couldn’t sleep even without the Gu parasite.

“No.” Ling Yanhe looked straight at him, a trace of madness in his dark eyes. He curled his lips slightly and said slowly: “You help me.”

“In your dreams!” Lin Qinghan refused decisively.

Ling Yanhe raised an eyebrow at the words but showed no intention of backing down.

The wind outside picked up again, sounding like it might blow the window open once more.

The creaking was annoying.

Lin Qinghan knit his brows at Ling Yanhe. the other looked at him with confidence. the youth’s heroic face was composed; only the tiny beads of sweat on his brow betrayed his restless heart.

Suddenly, Lin Qinghan laughed softly. The displeasure on his face vanished, replaced by a trace of mischief. He beckoned to the enduring Ling Yanhe, his tone provocative: “Come here. I’ll help you.”

The youth was hidden in the darkness, and his dark eyes were suddenly lit up by those words.

Watching the youth approach, the smile on Lin Qinghan’s face deepened. the undisguised mockery in his eyes was like jeering at the youth’s surrender and wretchedness, giving his whole person a trace of alluring malice.

A slender leg was lifted slightly. Lin Qinghan had removed his under-trousers earlier out of annoyance; now, his smooth lower leg emerged from his robes, pressing lightly beneath Ling Yanhe.

A muffled groan sounded. Lin Qinghan raised an eyebrow, looking without surprise at the sweat sliding from the other’s brow. the pressure from his foot was sometimes heavy, sometimes light.

He looked straight at Ling Yanhe. The previously straight back was now slightly arched, and that composed face had long been torn away by his actions.

Seeing Ling Yanhe’s humiliated state, a surge of pleasure rose in Lin Qinghan’s heart, completely drowning out his own discomfort and the tremors caused by his actions.

Look at this all-powerful protagonist. Right now, he is beneath my foot, allowed to be crushed into the mud by my actions.

A triumphant light sparkled in Lin Qinghan’s eyes. He applied more pressure.

Meeting Ling Yanhe’s suddenly lifted eyes and that fierce, somber gaze, Lin Qinghan raised an eyebrow and mocked him word by word: “A mad dog in heat.”